


three o'clock

by dodgefred



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Modern Era, if u dont know what a harlequin great dane looks like LOOK IT UP theyre so pretty, porridge is a dog not a dragon, stan my bad pacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24852289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dodgefred/pseuds/dodgefred
Summary: Every day at exactly 3:00, Amir East begins to brew a cup of tea. Every day at 3:06, Amir finishes his tea and goes to his bay windowsill to sit and look out at the street. And, every day at 3:07, Amir watches the same dark-haired boy cross the street with two dogs of comedically different sizes: a massive, harlequin Great Dane, and a tiny, chestnut and white (technically Blenheim, as Amir always liked to be technical) Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.
Relationships: Prince Amir/Prince Rupert (Two Princes Podcast)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	three o'clock

**Author's Note:**

> sorry my first ttp fic was so sad. i hope this makes up for it (:

Every day at exactly 3:00, Amir East begins to brew a cup of tea. Every day at 3:06, Amir finishes his tea and goes to his bay windowsill to sit and look out at the street. And, every day at 3:07, Amir watches the same dark-haired boy cross the street with two dogs of comedically different sizes: a massive, harlequin Great Dane, and a tiny, chestnut and white (technically Blenheim, as Amir always liked to be technical) Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

Amir hadn’t known what these dogs were called before he looked it up. He certainly wasn’t a dog person by any means, nonetheless one who knew dog breeds by appearance alone. The boy had walked by so often that Amir had committed the image to memory and had typed the description into Google. His nearly-photographic memory helped a lot.

The boy accompanying the dogs was your average white boy. Brown hair that looked way too messy to be legal- as if he had just woken up and left the house without even a bit of product. Amir could barely fathom it. In the winter, the boy’s cheeks grew bright red with the cold. He wore generally clean-pressed fashion in browns or beiges. He cuffed his jeans, and waved at all of the neighbors he passed.

This was a routine for Amir. Sure, it may have been creepy to look out his window at the boy, but this was normal for Amir. It satisfied him. The day was never the same if the brown-haired boy and his dogs didn’t walk past Amir’s apartment.

And, every day, Amir fantasized about the day he would be brave enough to walk outside with his mug of tea to say hello. The day he introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Amir East, what’s your name?” The day he became one of the neighbors the boy smiled at on his daily walk.

Every day, Amir’s affinity for routine and his worry of being rejected by the mystery boy and his dogs kept him watching from his bay window. Every day, Amir was left wordlessly gazing at the road.

Even if he could go outside and talk to the boy, Amir didn’t know how to make conversation. He could be polite, sure, but he didn’t know how to keep a discussion for more than a few minutes. He had a vast knowledge on many subjects, but none that any regular person would be interested in. His mother had cursed him in that way. And perhaps he was a curse in and of himself; he was far too trapped in his own head, clearly.

That’s why, on some sunny June day, Amir was brave enough to venture outside of his routine. It was a bit of spite against himself, he was sure. He had just finished up brewing his tea when 3:07 came around. Amir stepped outside of his door and waited on the patio with two dog treats in his hand- ones he had specially purchased for the boy’s dogs as a way to make conversation.

Amir waited and waited and waited, and... Nothing. Oddly, the boy didn’t walk by. Amir stood nervously tapping his toe, as if he had just been stood-up for a date. It wasn’t a date, though. The boy didn’t even know Amir was waiting- shit, he didn’t even know Amir  _ existed _ . Amir immediately blamed himself. If he hadn’t broken the routine and if he had sat by his window instead of going out onto the stoop, the boy would still be on his walk. Amir had disrupted the fabrics of the universe. Pretty soon, an asteroid would crash from the sky and lava would cover the city streets, Amir was sure of it. The world was ending--

Amir heard a bark and a, “Porridge, that’s so rude, we don’t use that kind of language!”

The boy.

Amir shook himself out of his terrors and turned his head to see the boy walking down the street as usual, waving to neighbors and smiling as he normally did. Who knew the difference of a few minutes could be so soul-crushing.

As the boy came closer, Amir walked down the steps of his porch and drew closer, dragon-slippers and all. His hands were quite sweaty, so he hoped the treats being a bit damp didn’t make them any less enjoyable for the dogs.

He cleared his throat. “Hello!” He greeted, a nervous smile on his face. And, before he could walk away, Amir blurted, “I have treats. For your dogs. If that’s okay.”

“Oh, hi!” The boy said. He furrowed his brows and then shook his head, smiling. “Of course, they’d love some!” He slowed his dogs to a stop so they could get their treats.

Amir let out a quick breath. He set down his tea on the ground so he could feed them to them.

“Oh, watch out, Porridge gets--” He was interrupted by the Dane jumping up with glee and kicking over the tea and cracking the mug. “--excited,” he finished awkwardly.

Amir gasped just a bit. It was his favorite mug, after all, but he tried his best to not look disappointed as the tea spread out across the concrete. “Oh no, it’s- that’s fine.” The boy didn’t deserve to feel guilty for something his dog did. He gave the dogs the treats anyway, and then rubbed the saliva off on his khakis.

“Thank you so much,” the boy said. “Since they haven’t learned to say it themselves yet.”

Amir chuckled. “No problem. I always see the three of you walk past my apartment. I just thought it would be nice to give your dogs something special. I brought two big bags of treats for them.”

“Oh, awesome!” The boy exclaimed. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know. But I’m sure they appreciate it a lot.”

Amir nodded. “Mhm,” he let out a little hum. He was very bad at making conversation.   
  
“Hey, I really like your slippers,” the boy said. “And your mug, before- um- y’know.”

Amir smiled. His slippers were a pair of red dragons, and his mug had a picture of a fictional medieval-inspired kingdom on it. He enjoyed a good fairytale every once in a while.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m a bit of a nerd for that sort of thing.”

“Oh, no, totally, me too,” the boy answered immediately. “I love reading and all that stuff. Granted, I don’t have much time to do it anymore between picking up ten-pound dog shits and apologizing to pretty boys when my dogs fuck something up, but I enjoy it.”

Amir needed to pause and catch his breath for a moment when the boy said “pretty boys,” so that he didn’t say anything stupid, but he just decided to laugh it off. “Oh, yeah, definitely,” he said. “I can see why that’d be a bit difficult to...juggle.”

The boy nodded. He made a face, as if he’d just remembered something. “Oh, fuck, my name is Rupert! Rupert West, no relation to Kanye.”

Amir was relieved to know the boy had a name. He stuck out his hand to shake, because he was taught it was always the polite thing to do. “I’m Amir East, actually.”

Rupert laughed. “No way- you’ve got to be shitting me. We can’t both have directional last names.”

Amir couldn’t help but laugh along in agreement. “That is pretty crazy, huh?”

The smaller of Rupert’s dogs began to grow restless and bite at his owner’s shoelace, so Rupert shook his head. “Fitzroy, that’s not very polite. I’m trying to ask for Amir’s number right now, dude.”

Amir didn’t really blush, so it was usually very easy to hide his flusteredness. But not today. Between his mug cracking and losing his tea, and breaking his routine to talk to the mystery boy Rupert, Amir had lost all control over himself and his life. He let out a choked out, “My number?”

“Oh, sure. We could trade if you want, mine is 212-200-2688.”

Amir just silently held out his phone. “Could you- maybe jot that down?” He asked hoarsely.

  
So that's how Amir wound up with a broken mug and the phone number of the pretty, brown-haired boy who had unknowingly become part of his routine. And now, 3:00 became even more special to Amir; because not only did Amir get to  _ watch  _ the boy and his dogs, but he got to join them, too. Now, every day at 3:00, Rupert met Amir by his stoop, and the two went to get tea together. Amir had a new routine now- one he never, ever wanted to break.

**Author's Note:**

> ps the phone number rupert gave amir was randomly generated from a website pls do NOT try and call it and harass whoever owns it lmao i trust u guys wouldnt but pls


End file.
